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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27126791">As Normal Does</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce'>likeadeuce</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Tick (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arthur/Dangerboat (mentioned), F/M, Weird flirting, angsty fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:27:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27126791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your brother has a dinner date with my boat tonight," Overkill said.</p><p>All Overkill's stuff is on his boat. </p><p>There's nothing for him to surveil, infiltrate, or raid.</p><p>Dot will have to help him make other plans.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dorothy "Dot" Everest/Overkill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>New Year's Resolutions 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>As Normal Does</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinShelley/gifts">Cousin Shelley (CousinShelley)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to Iseult_variante for beta-reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Your brother has a dinner date with my boat tonight.”</p><p>Startled, Dot looked up to see Overkill. </p><p>She wasn’t startled because he was being particularly stealthy. Head to toe black tactical gear and a giant pair of scissors strapped to his back didn’t actually help a guy blend in a well-lighted office lobby -- even when that lobby belonged to AEGIS, and there were plenty of people dressed even more strangely. It was just that Dot had bent down to tighten up the laces on her shoes, and that Overkill couldn’t start a conversation like a normal person.</p><p>Normal. Whatever that was worth. The two of them worked for a superhero agency. Dot had time shifting powers. Her brother was having a dinner date with a sentient boat.  So what if Overkill got right to the point in conversation? It was refreshing. Might as well fall into his rhythm.</p><p>“Arthur and Dangerboat,” she said. “How do you feel about that?”</p><p>“<em>Feel</em>?” Overkill answered, like that verb was the name of the latest crime lord he had decided to exact vengeance on.</p><p>Right, okay. Overkill’s rhythm was a very particular thing. Action over feelings. Dot tried again. “What do you want to do about it?”</p><p>“Well.” He frowned. “I can’t exactly go back to my boat. You’re here. I’m here. . .”</p><p>Dot listened, waiting for this to go where she would expect it to go with any other man. Then she realized he wasn’t going to say anything else. </p><p>Dot wasn’t used to having to do this much work to get a date. She’d always had plenty of offers to catch a ball game or hang out at a bar and then roll around in the hay with guys who weren’t in any hurry to call again, which was fine with Dot. She was too busy to deal with some EMT jock catching a case of feelings. She knew she’d developed a reputation as a “cool girl” --  low-maintenance Dot. It had always been fine. Convenient. She got her needs met and saved all the emotional energy for her work, and for her extremely high-maintenance family.   </p><p>Overkill though. . . on one level he was her type: shoulders and biceps and that gravelly voice that absolutely did things to her. But he was so, what? Shy? Traumatized? Willing to take her seriously in ways that no one else ever had? Yes. Sure. All of those things. But he had never voluntarily allowed her to touch him (life saving first aid didn't count), and at some point she was going to have to resign herself to this being a weird crush she had, or actually do something to force the issue.</p><p>Looking at him now, she drew in a breath. “Would you,” she said, “like to go somewhere tonight with me?” (She hoped ‘like’ was okay; it wasn’t all that different from ‘feel.’ Maybe she should have gone with “Do you want. . .?”)</p><p>Overkill touched the back of his head, looking down at her from his impressive height through his spectacular mechanical eyes. “Yes,” he said. Then, “No.” Then, “I don’t know.” He looked around the AEGIS lobby. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation here.”</p><p>“You’re the one who started this conversation here, but okay?” </p><p>He nodded at her to precede him through the revolving doors and out into the street, then trailed her as she turned a corner and headed toward her favorite bodega because sure, why not? She saw Overkill following her, and then she didn’t see him following her, and she grinned because this was starting to feel like them doing something together even if he hadn’t exactly said yes to her invitation. </p><p>Dot bought a pack of gum from the bodega guy, taking time to assure him that she didn’t want a face sandwich now but would be sure to enjoy one in the future. She took a breath. She looked around.</p><p>When she stepped back outside, Overkill was standing there, collar of his leather jacket pulled up and hands in his pockets. “I’ve been racking my brain,” he said, “but I can’t come up with a single place for us to infiltrate, or a single miscreant to surveil.”</p><p>“Well,” said Dot, “we did promise to give up the vigilante life when we joined AEGIS. And things have been pretty quiet.”</p><p>“Too quiet.” He frowned. “But I don’t know what that means yet. I got a tip on what might be some new schematics for a weapon but we can’t even go over schematics because all my schematics are on Dangerboat.”  </p><p>“We could --” Dot cleared her throat “-- do something together that’s not surveillance or infiltration. Or even schematics.”</p><p>“I like your thinking, but I’m still in my probationary period with AEGIS and we definitely couldn’t get away with a full blown raid. I’m not even sure who we’d raid. Like you said, it’s been quie ---”</p><p>“Overkill!” Dot threw out her hands. “Please just come over to my place and I’ll make us dinner?” </p><p>He didn’t answer immediately but kept his eyes on her. He pressed his lips together and his Adam’s apple trembled. Finally, he said, “It <em>has</em> been a long time since I ate anything but Fo-Ham. And all the Fo-Ham’s on Dangerboat. But --” He swallowed and nodded, resolved. “I’m willing to step out of my comfort zone.”</p><p>This felt like something; having a comfort zone to abandon was almost like having feelings. As long as they were pushing at comfort zones -- she reached a hand out, spread her fingers, and raised her eyebrows. He caught her gaze, then mimed swinging his hand to give her five, without actually doing it. <em>Is this what you were going for?</em>, his expression asked.</p><p><em>Close</em>, she thought, then said. “If you want to. If it’s okay. You can hold my hand.”</p><p>His face revealed nothing, but then he brought his hand to hers stopping just before he touched it. “They’re not really my hands,” he said, stammering a little. “They’re excellent prosthetics. The haptic sensors are state of the art, but -- it might not feel fully normal. For you.”</p><p>Dot smiled, remembering what she used to say to Arthur. How differently the words struck her now; how differently true. <em>Normal is as normal does.</em></p><p>“That’s okay,” said Dot. She touched her palm to Overkill’s palm, and wove her fingers through his. He was still wearing the tactical gloves, and the mesh both scratched and tickled her hand.  “Come back to my place.”</p><p>They walked down the sidewalk together: Dot with her civilian clothes and perky ponytail, Overkill in his extremely unstealthy stealth gear. Nobody even looked at them like it was weird. </p><p>Not in this city.</p>
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